The Lightning-Struck Tower
by White Trenchcoat
Summary: One-shot. Set during book 6, spoilers for 6 and 7. What does Snape think about the task entrusted to him by Voldemort, to kill the greatest wizard of his time? And can he actually do it.


Disclaimer: OK I should have thought this through before submitting it. I momentarily forgot the majority of the HP fanbase can be very obsessive about characters and interpretations. I've never written for such a large fandom before. Henceforth: I won't say whether I like Snape or not. It should not matter to your enjoyment of this story. I write this story because I like Snape's character, his development and the way J.K Rowling wrote him. I just thought about what he must have been thinking at a critical point in the book. I use only what is given in the book to make good assumptions. This is not in any way a 'yay' or 'nay' or a judgement on him. It's just a rumination.

-WT

* * *

Snape had been marking papers when he heard the commotion outside. "Severus! Severus!" cried out Flitwick's voice, Snape getting up wand in hand. "Death eaters! In the castle! Quick, come with me you've got to help!"

"I know what to do" replied Snape, and wordlessly stupefied the charms teacher, an expression of surprise permanently on his face. Snape picked up his cloak and put it on as he rushed out the room, hiding his surprise at the presence of Miss Weasley and Miss Granger outside his door. "Professor Flitwick has collapsed, look after him" he lied, and charged towards the battle.

Coward.

This was it then. This is your reward for all your treachery and lies. How many people had I seen die? Countless. All believed in you until the end, thinking you did what was best for them.

Only I know the truth. You're just a coward. They call me as such behind my back, and traitor, and sneak and liar. But what are you then, you old bastard? At least I've come to terms with my deplorable actions. I know I've never done anything for the greater good, only love. You were always deluded. Now I have to work twice as hard because you decided to give up. Why did you pick up that damned ring, why did you curse yourself! Perhaps you knew, perhaps you wanted to die. Crazy old man. You aren't meant to accept death, you were meant to fight it! That was one thing the Voldemort had gotten right, at least.

As Longbottom was flung back from the staircase to the tower and Snape's 'allies' called out warnings, Severus knew what was stopping the others from entering. As the potions expert entered the enchantment, the dark mark on his arm seared, but his tumulus thoughts overrode the pain. He took the stairs two at a time. "Draco, do it, or stand aside so one of us-" spoke a voice from behind the door, and Snape rammed it.

This was it then. No backtracking or clever plans. Five death eaters, and Draco, all wanting Dumbledore's blood. I can't stop this. Do I want to stop this? Yes, I do not want this broken old man to die. I want him to suffer, and work, and survive like the rest of us. It'll be me, now. Only I will be able to carry on our legacy, you cowardly old man.

"We've got a problem, Snape. The boy doesn't seem able-"

"Please" pleaded Dumbledore.

Snape strode across the floor of the ramparts, waves of hatred roiling off him and cowering the death eaters. This was the type of cold hate which could do much worse than fire. It was like Voldemort himself was there among them. They saw Severus Snape walk over to Dumbledore, and his plea of mercy once more.

Snape didn't have to fake the hatred on his face, staring down at this pathetic example of wizardry. Revolting. Sickly. Old and decrepit. You deserve more than this, old man. You deserve to be tortured, and played with, and tormented like I have been all these years. Kudos, though, for making me unable to enjoy this. You don't even know the burden you leave to me, and others. Only concerned with yourself. WHAT ABOUT ME?! WHAT ABOUT LILY'S SON?!

"Avada Kedavra!" spoke Snape, hatred in every syllable, and felt the hate run down his arm, infusing his wand with enough power to kill anything. The green light shot out and removed the life from Albus Dumbledore. There was no happiness or satisfaction like the other death eaters felt, just a deep hatred marred by remorse.

Coward.


End file.
